Chapter 38
Evelyn's POV
I accepted the champagne because refusing would have drawn more attention than accepting, but I didn't drink. My heart was already racing too fast, my palms damp despite the air conditioning.
I needed to stay sharp, needed to track Caldwell's movements, needed Julian to lose interest and move on so I could focus on the mission. But of course he wouldn't make it that easy.
"Why would I do that?" I managed, forcing my voice to stay level.
"Because your stepson is here with his future fiancée, those social climbers are giving you the cold shoulder, and I'm about to make everything significantly worse by monopolizing your attention all evening." His smile widened. "Most people would consider that adequate reason to stay home."
"I'm not most people."
"No," he agreed, his gaze traveling over me in a way that felt like a physical touch. "You're really not. That dress is perfect, by the way. Very 'I'm here to be seen but don't you dare think you can touch me.' The Winthrops could learn a thing or two about power projection from you."
I needed him to leave. Needed him anywhere but here, watching me, studying me, making it impossible to track Caldwell without being obvious about it. I glanced toward the terrace doors, saw Caldwell still engaged in conversation with the defense contractors, calculated I had at least ten more minutes before he'd excuse himself for his first cigar.
"Did you come over here just to critique my fashion choices," I said, trying to keep the edge out of my voice, "or was there an actual point to this conversation?"
"Both." He took a sip of his champagne, utterly relaxed in his black Tom Ford tuxedo, looking every inch the predator he was. "I wanted to see if you'd keep your promise. No pretending, remember? And I wanted to make sure you knew that I'm watching you tonight. Very closely."
My blood went cold, but I kept my expression neutral. "Why would you need to watch me?"
"Because you're interesting." He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Because I have a feeling you're not here just to support Adrian's charity work. Because every time you think I'm not looking, your eyes drift toward Marcus Caldwell."
Panic spiked through me, sharp and sudden. He'd noticed. Of course he'd noticed. Julian missed nothing, and I'd been careless, too focused on the mission to properly maintain my cover. I needed to deflect, needed to give him a plausible explanation that would satisfy his curiosity without revealing the truth.
"I knew of him," I said, the lie forming smoothly because the best lies were always built on fragments of truth. "Arthur used to talk about him sometimes. The senator who actually asked uncomfortable questions instead of just collecting lobbyist checks. I was curious to see him in person."
Julian's eyes narrowed slightly, and I knew he was weighing my words, testing them for cracks. "Curious enough to watch him all evening?"
"I wasn't watching him all evening."
"No?" His smile was sharp. "Then why do your eyes keep drifting back to him every thirty seconds?"
Damn it. I'd been careless, too focused on tracking Caldwell's movements to properly maintain my cover. I needed to deflect, needed to give Julian something that would satisfy his curiosity without revealing the truth.
"Maybe I'm just bored," I said. "These events are always the same. Same people, same conversations, same champagne. At least watching a senator is more interesting than listening to Elizabeth's friends discuss their latest Hamptons renovations."
Julian studied me for a long moment, and I couldn't tell if he believed me or was just deciding whether to push.
Finally, he shifted closer, his hand finding the small of my back in a gesture that looked casual but felt like a claim. "Well, in that case, allow me to save you from boredom. Let's circulate. I promised Elizabeth I'd introduce you to some potential donors for her foundation. Entirely innocent, I assure you."
Nothing about Julian was innocent, and the last thing I needed was to be dragged around the ballroom making small talk while my target was having a good time. But refusing would raise more questions, create more suspicion. So I let him guide me into the crowd, every muscle in my body tense with the need to break away, to position myself near the terrace, to maintain visual contact with Caldwell.
"You seem tense," Julian murmured as we moved through the crowd. "Nervous about something?"
"Just tired," I said. "It's been a long week."
"I'm sure it has." His thumb traced small circles against my spine, a gesture that would have seemed affectionate to anyone watching but felt like he was testing my reactions, cataloging my responses. "Moving out of the Winthrop mansion, settling into a new place, dealing with all the lawyers and accountants. Must be exhausting."
"It is."
"And yet here you are, attending a charity gala when you could be home resting." He tilted his head, studying me with those too-sharp eyes. "Almost like you had a specific reason for coming tonight. Something important enough to override your exhaustion."
I forced a smile, hating how transparent I apparently was to him. "Maybe I just wanted to prove to Elizabeth that I'm not hiding. That I have every right to be here."
"Maybe." He didn't sound convinced. "Or maybe you're here for the same reason I am—because sometimes the most interesting business happens at these events. The kind of business that doesn't make it into the society pages."
Before I could respond, Adrian appeared in my peripheral vision, moving through the crowd with Isabella on his arm.
Julian followed my gaze and his smile turned sharp. "Ah. The happy couple. They do make a lovely picture, don't they? Very American dynasty. I'm sure their children will be absolutely insufferable."
The cruelty in his voice was deliberate, designed to provoke a reaction. But I couldn't afford to give him one.
Not when I needed to track Caldwell, not when every second Julian kept me engaged in conversation was a second I wasn't monitoring my target.